Hearts the Last Beat (Angel Fire #6) - Ellie Masters Page 0,45

Spike. It doesn’t feel like we’re rushing into anything, considering we’ve both been holding back for well over a year, but still. Maybe we need to slow things down while I figure out what I want to do with my life?

“It’s okay not to know.” Holly places her hand on my arm. For the first time ever, I don’t flinch. “You have plenty of time.”

“Time enough to tell him I’m sorry?” I point toward the window where Bash gives hell to the drums.

“I suppose time enough even for that.” Holly steps to the side. “A word of advice?”

“Yes?”

“Be a part of the solution. Sorry is good and all, but actions are what matter. Show him you’re ready to do something. Try to be a little grateful for the sacrifices he’s made. He’s a really great guy with a heart of gold.”

“I will.” I take a step. “And, Holly?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.” She opens the door to Bash’s private studio and peeks her head inside. Bash stops midbeat, his body tensing at the intrusion.

His gaze cuts to the window, then I see him give a barely perceptive nod. Holly steps back into the hall.

“He’s all yours.”

I take in a deep breath and brace for a conversation with my dad.

Seventeen

Spike

While Angel heads out to find Bash, I make my way outside. It’s early and I feel the need for a little sun therapy. Maybe, I need to clear my head.

I don’t buy into Noodles’ whole Zen philosophy about communing with nature, but I believe in the rejuvenating properties of the sun on my face, the ocean breeze blowing across my skin, and the smell of a crisp new day filling my lungs.

If that’s Zen, I’m a convert.

I embrace the moment and let it wash away my stress.

My attention swivels to the far end of the pool, the part where it hangs over the edge of the cliff. A serene smile fills my face when I think about what happened there last night.

It was our beginning.

It’s not like I fucked her and made her mine, but something definitely shifted between us. To be honest, I’ll take last night over fucking her brains out hands down.

Yeah, that doesn’t sound like me at all.

Thus the whole foundational shifting thing going on inside of me. Old Spike would’ve been down only for the fucking and the physical release it brought. New me craves the connection Angel and I formed.

Somehow, holding her in my arms, kissing her, and exploring her body with my hands, fingers, and mouth, feels more intimate to me than shoving my dick inside her for a quick fuck. Not that I don’t want that too. Still a guy. Still with a massive libido to feed.

With her, I want more.

I crave every sensation when I’m with her. Skin brushing against skin. Lips pressing against lips. Tongues tangling. The silky feel of her hair sliding through my fingers. The tiny gasps spilling from her lips.

I crave all of it.

Not that I can’t wait to slide inside her, but I’m in no rush. We’ve got the rest of our lives to figure everything out.

She’s mine now.

That statement evokes a visceral reaction, something indescribable, but poignant. Angel belongs to me, and I’m never letting her go.

Never.

Lucy was right. She always is. It was worth the wait. I could’ve taken Angel any number of times before. I could’ve taken what I wanted and been done with it. If I had, I would’ve cheapened things. Destroyed things. I would’ve turned us into something dirty and vile.

Disgusting.

By waiting, a burden’s been lifted off my shoulders; I know I did right not to push. In letting Angel make her own decisions, this thing between us feels right. Like the very act of waiting, of not rushing, and taking, we’ve been given a beautiful gift.

If Angel can get Bash to agree to me supervising her driving, it gives us a reason to be together. The others will become accustomed to seeing us with each other. We can laugh. Share jokes. In time, a casual touch on the forearm won’t draw an eye. Maybe a quick embrace will be tolerated. Holding hands can follow.

And then?

At some point, my hope is they’ll accept the growing intimacy between us. Nobody needs to know what happened last night or what I intend to happen very soon. That can be the private side of our story. The public part will come with time.

There is no rush.

“Yo, how ya’ doin’?” Noodles surprises me. I didn’t see him lounging in one of